“If It Ain’t Artisan, Kiss My Corn”: William Dalton BIB Bourbon & The Spirits of French Lick

Jul 3

Alright, in my last rant I tackled sourced bourbon and how it’s just fine. Actually, you should just go read it, but in summary: there’s plenty of space in the bourbon world for all of us.

But today? I’m flipping to the other side of the still. Today we’re tasting and highlighting a bourbon that screams artisan — the kind of “if it ain’t artisan then you can kiss my corn” folks.

I’m talking about the kind of people who still buy milk in glass bottles with fresh foam on top. The kind of folks who could wander into the woods with nothing but a nail file and a bandana, then come out a month later with a canoe, a bundle of spears, and enough rabbit pelts to start a boutique coat company. Yep — artisans. Craftsmen.

And that brings us to the Spirits of French Lick distillery in Indiana.

Let’s be crystal clear — this is not MGP. In fact, this is the anti-MGP.

They proudly brand themselves under the motto:

“Respect the grain.”

And boy, do they live it.

Their wheat and corn are cultivated on a Hoosier Homestead-designated farm, using sustainable practices. They use Amanda Palmer heirloom corn, grown on a fifteen-acre plot just for their estate bourbon. Also — they’re one of the few artisan distilleries with their own grain mill on site, complete with a seed cleaner to kick out any off flavors. They take this stuff seriously. Hardcore.

🥃 So what are we drinking?

We’re sipping on William Dalton Bottled in Bond.

A straight bourbon whiskey with a mash bill of:

70% corn
20% wheat
10% 2-row caramel malt

According to SFL, that caramel malt brings a refined, sweet depth that bolsters the wheat’s traditional soft tones. Then they throw in their “house” yeast strain plus a brandy yeast that pulls forward herbal and fruity notes. Instead of sour mashing, they partially rely on malo-lactic fermentation to bring out earthy elements and a creamy mouthfeel.

It’s 100% double pot distilled, goes into the barrel at 105 proof, and matures in #2 char 53-gallon barrels in a mix of Chai cellar and Dunnage warehouses.

📝 The experience

The label? A classy navy blue with gold highlights, giving off that antique vibe. I dig it.

It’s named after — what else — a local moonshiner.

Color? Let’s call it dark amber. It’s inviting.

On the nose: honeysuckle, caramel, and yeah, go ahead and laugh at me, but it reminds me of a farm mill. It’s got those sweet, earthy tones.

On the sip: up front it’s sweet, like any solid wheated bourbon. Then a nice earthy layer kicks in — this tastes like artisan farm bourbon, which I absolutely love. I know that’s not for everyone, but hey, it’s my bourbon, I paid for it, and damn it’s good.

There’s a tart cherry note that pops up, then some pepper and honey on the finish, resolving into nutmeg and dark fruit.

🥃 The verdict

Alright. I like this.

You get real complexity here. Forget mixing — just sip it neat in a glass. No ice needed. It’s an excellent example of farm-forward bourbon.

Now, I’m not saying there’s no place for more mass-produced bourbons. Let’s be honest — six corporate distillers make roughly 99% of the bourbon out there. When you own 99% of the market, you don’t just own it — you dominate it. Nobody at Sazerac, Heaven Hill, MGP, or Brown-Forman is waking up this morning sweating over Spirits of French Lick. And if they are, they’re probably corporate pirates who sold their souls for a quarterly report.

So don’t go grab this if you’re looking for Evan Williams Bottled in Bond.

This is unique. It’s farm-forward. It’s excellent.

There’s room in this world for all kinds — except, apparently, for that pop country garbage somebody accidentally called music.